


The Ritual

by tongue_spike



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Pining, Tattoos, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 04:58:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tongue_spike/pseuds/tongue_spike
Summary: Standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Queen's chambers, the Nameless Guard pretended not to notice how the nobles milling around gawked at him. That was if they could stand to look at him at all. He was careful not to react to their obvious unease at the empty canvas of his skin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CariadWinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CariadWinter/gifts).



_In response to the Goblins' surprise attack upon the outer regions of Elvendom, the Queen assembled a noble army to attack the Goblin Necromancer and his legions. It was later learned that the attack upon the remote villages had been executed for the sole purpose of drawing the Queen and her warriors away from the Heart of the Realm, thus leaving the Sacred Pools unguarded._

_Wave upon wave of Shadow Warriors were unleashed upon the Realm even as the Queen and Necromancer did battle leagues away. So fierce was the assault that the very walls of the Queen's City were enflamed with battle._

_However, the Queen's wisdom was deeper than the Necromancer's wiles. While few in number, those remaining in the city were led by none other than the Queen's son. The Crown Prince was the best of her warriors and the strongest of her mages, and it fell to him to hold the city and protect the Queen's magic in her stead._

_By the Prince's power and leadership, the hoards were kept at bay long enough for the Queen to return and cast out the weakened Shadow people. With their Necromancer dead and their own Dark Pools spent, they had only the Decaying Curse to unleash, but the Queen thwarted their attempt at destruction, ensuring centuries of safety and prosperity to come._

-Excerpt from  _The Complete History of Elvendom_  by the Third High Scholar of Her Majesty's Academy

 

*** 

 

Standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Queen's chambers, the Nameless Guard pretended not to notice how the nobles milling around gawked at him. That was if they could stand to look at him at all. He was careful not to react to their obvious unease at the empty canvas of his skin.

He should be used to this by now. For a century, he had been the recipient of badly concealed stares and too loud whispers. Nothing was going to change.

Still, his carefully masked expression almost cracked in relief when the doors behind him opened and the Crown Prince descended into the Great Hall.

The nobles immediately rushed forward, only stopping from actually reaching out for the Prince by the Nameless Guard's none-too-subtle reach for his sword.

"The signs are very auspicious for the Ritual today, Your Highness," the Lady of the Eight Fires said before anyone else could get a word in. She was conspicuous in turning her head so that the light caught the shine on her face tattoos, highlighting their intricate patterns.

The Prince smiled. "I am very glad to hear that." Not for the first time, the Nameless Guard wondered how the Prince could be so patient and gracious to the noble houses. The Nameless Guard would blunt his sword if any of them could actually identify a sign, let alone read one.

"All the preparations are in place. It will be a party like no other tonight," the Lord of Sapphire Deeps said. "You really must attend this year."

None of the assembled nobles noted the way the Prince stiffened, but the Nameless Guard saw it. He acted immediately. "The Captain is waiting, sir." His tone was calm, as if it were no more than a quiet report, but he made his intention clear by tightening his hold on his sword and shifting his weight to put himself slightly closer to the Prince and in the way of the closest aristocrat.

The reaction of the nobles was the same as always: disgust, unease, surprise that he could even speak.

Before any of them could react, the Prince replied, "Of course." He turned to the assembled crowd. "I hope you will pardon my haste, but there is a long journey to the Sacred Pool, and I really should not tarry if the celebrations tonight are to occur on time."

It amazed the Nameless Guard that the Prince could say that with a straight face.

All around them, the nobles nodded and bowed. The Nameless Guard caught the irritated looks thrown his way from several of the higher ranked lords and ladies. He could guess at their dashed hopes of having a minute of the Prince's time since today was the only day they could be assured of his presence, and no one here had the rank to see the Queen.

It baffled the Nameless Guard that they could still entertain the idea that they would have any chance for politics at all, not today of all days. But it was always the same; they never caught the hint.

Following only a step behind the Prince, the Nameless Guard's mere presence was enough to dissuade any especially eager social climber from that one last entreaty for his time.

As soon as the Great Hall's doors were shut behind them, the Prince said, "I'm sorry about that. I did not mean to take so long."

The Nameless Guard did not respond. They had had this conversation before, after all. As far as he was concerned, the Prince had no reason to apologize, and if he did, it was not his place to do so. He owed nothing to the Nameless Guard.

 _Still, I know how you feel about the Lesser Houses_. The Prince's mental voice was muted like hearing underwater, but it always felt musical to the Nameless Guard.

Right now, he took no comfort in the usually soothing touch of the Prince's mind to his own. He hadn't meant for his thoughts to be heard, and he immediately raised the shields around his own mind to keep anything else from inadvertently spilling out. Internally, he cursed himself. He knew how this day affected him. He knew he should be more careful.

The Prince glanced in his direction, the only sign he felt the increase in mentally shielding, but there was no opportunity to voice his thoughts on that. They were at the door leading outside where a troop of soldiers awaited them.

"We're all set, Your Highness," the Captain said as soon as he saw them. "All the scouts have reported back that there are no signs of Goblins, and the Wardens are all in place. I suggest we make all haste lest the situation change."

The Prince canted his head in acknowledgement. "I concur, Captain. Let us not delay."

A snow-white winged horse was saddled and ready for the Prince. The Nameless Guard's own beast was gray in color. It was a steady, simple horse, which looked completely out of place among the highborn creatures carrying the officers assigned to the Prince's protection.

The Nameless Guard supposed that could be said of him too.

Once they were mounted, the Captain signaled to the troops, who moved in two neat rows to flank the Prince and other mounted officers. As they moved, a door at the end of the courtyard opened and the sound of hundreds of cheering voices rose up.

The Prince led the party of warriors on a preset route through the winding streets of the Queen's City. He waved to the children huddled together on the walls, smiled at the maidens in the balconies, and laughed at the jesters entertaining the crowds.

Around him, magical displays lit up at every turn. Butterflies made of rainbows fluttered in choreographed dances, bells rang and harps played without any hands moving them, showers of flower petals hung in the air about them—all the grandiose pageantry the nobles loved to spend their magic on.

It was safe enough here for the Nameless Guard to let the officers of the sentry surround the Prince, but he urged his horse forward once the gates of the city came into view. He was at the Prince's side as they passed out into the meadows that surrounded the city walls.

The mounted soldiers fanned out around the Prince in a loose circle while half the troops preceded them and half took up the rear. The Nameless Guard remained at his Prince's side.

There were still people lining the path towards the woods. They had set up blankets and tents in anticipation of the Ritual festivities, and now waved and shouted as the Prince's regiment slowly marched by. No doubt they had come from far away, and would excitedly tell those at home how they had chanced to see the elusive Crown Prince on the way to the Ritual itself.

The Nameless Guard knew the Prince would be happy for their joy, but the dichotomy between their understanding of the Ritual and what the Nameless Guard knew was really going to happen always left him feeling frozen inside.

Entering the shadows of the woods, the cavalcade wound its way along a familiar route. A hundred times now, they had made this pilgrimage. The way was thick with travelers trying to reach the City before the festivities later that night. They were forced to stand aside to make room for the Prince and his entourage but no one seemed to mind.

For hours, the Prince's party traveled, passing through a Guild Town and onto a narrower path. While the town had been full, people were sparser the further they went. All along their course, strings hung with flowers were woven into the branches of the trees.

At a fork in the road, they took their first deviation. The Captain had thoroughly briefed the Prince and Nameless Guard on this, stating heavy winter flooding had washed out the ford they usually took, forcing a longer route around.

The Nameless Guard pulled his horse closer to the Prince's, leaving room only for the winged stallion to be able to take flight if that become necessary. He busied himself with scanning the surrounding area for possible danger, although he knew the Wardens had been over the area with their usual expert diligence.

He knew from experience that sometimes that wasn't enough.

So focused was he on the forest surrounding them that he did not see the small village until they were already passing through it.

"How charming," the Prince said quietly, smiling and waving to the small group of elves that had turned out to see their passing. He glanced at the Nameless Guard. "You came from a village like this, did you not?"

The Nameless Guard took the measure of the place and said, "Similar but smaller."

Indeed, his village had been about a quarter the size of this one. A dozen families at most. But he couldn't deny a sense of nostalgia that hit him as they slowed so the Prince could take a proffered bouquet of hand-picked wildflowers from a little girl at the front of the crowd.

Her eyes were shining with joy as the Prince reached out to tug one of her long braids and smell the flowers she gave him. All the Nameless Guard could think of was his own sister, who he had not seen in a century now. He watched the Prince win over the little girl with his usual charm, stopping to chat a moment with the provincial people. The little girl didn't take her eyes off the Prince the whole time, not until he directed his stallion back towards the Nameless Guard.

When her gaze came to the Nameless Guard and she saw his face, her eyes widened and he could see her shock. He turned away quickly, not wanting to see what followed.

The diverting of his attention meant he was just in time to see two adolescents set off twin columns of magic smoke. They were red and blue, twirling together to make a dusty purple rain of sparks and half-formed humming birds. They fluttered together, almost falling apart completely, but managing enough definition to dissolve into the Prince's family crest.

The nobles of the Lesser Houses would sneer at it, of course, but the Prince was delighted and spared no effort in expressing it, much to the relief of the adolescents.

The Nameless Guard watched in numbly, feeling gut-punched. Memories of his sister were a century old, but playing with magic felt like another life altogether, and he felt anew how empty his skin was.

He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't help remembering the feel of magic buzzing along his nerves. He would spend so long carefully hoarding what little magic they could scrounge up in the village, only daring to spend it on useful spells that could help out the family with chores or the village with protections.

It hadn't helped against the Goblins, had it? he thought bitterly.

 _I didn't know you could do magic,_  the Prince said, catching the memories as the weight of them cracked the Nameless Guard's shields.

Not wanting this conversation to be heard by all the soldiers around them, the Nameless Guard reluctantly replied mentally,  _No more than any child._

_Did I catch that your parents wanted to enroll you in the Academy?_

The Nameless Guard winced at that, the memory fleeting among the others stirred up by the little village. He was glad they were finally moving on, but he knew this conversation wasn't going anywhere.

Indeed, the Prince drew his own steed closer to the Nameless Guard's, looking curious. _Is that why you were in the City during the War? Were you to be enrolled? I didn't know that._

_I wasn't enrolled. My parents' desires notwithstanding, I wasn't nearly good enough for that. They just didn't realize it. Doing anything more magical than the usual easily impresses provincial folk. I might have managed at one of the small Guilds but nothing more than that._

The Prince frowned. _Is that what the Academy told your parents?_

 _My parents were dead long before I could have joined the Academy._ The Nameless Guard firmly kept his emotions in check so nothing of his feeling leaked into their conversation.

The Prince's expression turned sympathetic. _That's right. I forgot. They died in the War. Your village was one of those destroyed to force the Queen to action. I'm sorry._

 _It's not like you were the one to torch my village,_  the Nameless Guard thought, his mental tone a touch exasperated. While he secretly loved the Prince dearly, he did think the Prince took on more than his fair share of blame. Not everything was his fault, prince or not.

The Prince's smile became self-depreciating. _Still, you must have been close to the age of enrollment. I remember you were very young during the war._

 _I wasn't_ that _young,_ the Nameless Guard thought defensively.

 _Of course._ The Prince's smile became warmer. _When the War was over, did you ever consider applying to the Academy?_

The Nameless Guard snorted. _Of course not._

 _Why 'of course not'?_  The Prince sounded genuinely confused.

Uncomfortable, the Nameless Guard reluctantly said,  _That little display those kids just put on? That was likely a month's worth of magic for that village. My own village was even more remote. We had only the one magic pool for the whole village. There was no way I could pass the entrance exams without magic to spend on a good spell._

 _The Academy wants the best talent of the Realm. They would provide a spell for any would-be student._ The Prince sounded so earnest that the Nameless Guard felt bad to contradict him.

 _That's what the Queen decreed. That doesn't make it a reality._ The Prince looked very disturbed by the notion, which just reminded the Nameless Guard why they had never had this conversation before. Maybe, long ago, the Academy had been more equal. But the Queen was no longer able to safeguard the institutions as she once had, and the Prince could champion nothing, not as things stood now.

Wanting to change the subject, the Nameless Guard thought,  _It doesn't matter now anyway. I gave up my Name. I cannot wield any magic. Dwelling on might-have-beens does no good._

Not unexpectedly, the Prince's gaze shifted to the Nameless Guard's bare face. His expression turned so sad. _It shouldn't have been this way._

 _It was my decision,_  the Nameless Guard thought firmly, emphasizing his words by sharing his firm resolve along their bond.

The Prince sighed. _Even so, it was not a decision that should ever have been needed._

The Nameless Guard knew there was no talking the Prince out of his thoughts so he carefully muffled their bond. 

He did not shut it completely. The whole point of their mental connection was so that he knew where the Prince was at all times and could be at his aid immediately.

If there was ever a day where that was needed, it would be today.

They said nothing more as they continued towards the Ritual site. The woods around them became darker and quieter. There were no travelers beyond the village they had passed. No one would live this far away from the safety of the Queen's power. The Nameless Guard wondered if the elves even remembered that people used to live much further than this—that the Ritual site itself was once well within the borders of Elvendom.

It seemed like so much was forgotten or just conveniently overlooked.

Signs of the war were still present here. Trees had not grown back. The Goblin engines of war remained half-buried in earth where they'd been left, and no one had dared remove them. The very light of the sun seemed hard-pressed to find its way to the forest floor.

It was only at the Ritual site itself that the grass remained green and the forest breathed easier. An island amid decay and ruination.

The Nameless Guard was at his most alert as the soldiers filed in to take their assigned places for this Ritual. He followed the Prince to the Sacred Pool, handing the reins of his horse to a fellow soldier and slipping inside the Veiled Gates.

The Prince had told the Nameless Guard years ago that the Sacred Pool had once been in the middle of a wide meadow and was twice the size it was now. He had further explained the current barrier of trees had been hastily grown after the initial Goblin attacks had encroached on Elvendom.

Long ago, the whole kingdom had been filled with such ponds and lakes of magic, but only a few could be spared from the Goblins. The price of protection was too high for small pools, and they had been polluted and then buried, leaving the area around them rotted as the fouled magic slowly dissolved.

The Sacred Pool was lined by large trees growing so close together as to be a wall. Only one gap remained where a magical barrier augmented a physical gate. The Nameless Guard secured this small gate, able to see through the metal slats to the rows of soldiers lining a path leading to the Tunnel Hill on the other side of what remained of the meadow. The Nameless Guard pulled a lever that flipped metal shields into the spaces of the slats, leaving the gate without holes to penetrate.

Turning around, he saw that the Prince had approached the stone bench at the pool's edge and was beginning to divest himself of his clothes. He carefully folded each article as he took it off, revealing the traditional tattoos lining his body. The Nameless Guard had had tattoos like that, before he'd given up his Name. His recollection of them was fuzzy now, but he thought they had been simple in design and green in color.

The Prince's weren't any color. Rather, they glowed with magic-light in ever-changing designs. Only the Queen's line had such magnificent markings, and the Nameless Guard was honored that he was able to see the full extent of them.

Still, it wasn't right to see, and he busied himself with pulling out the ceremonial robe the Prince would wear. The Prince offered a smile when he accepted the garment. After pulling it on, he went to a natural fountain created by a giant plant growing along the edge of the pool. From the fountain, he took a small bud.

Usually, that was the beginning of the Ritual, and they would head outside to begin the rite. But today he paused, gazing out over the pond to where an enormous lily grew.

"Your Highness?" the Nameless Guard asked when the Prince showed no sign of moving. 

His words seemed to startle the Prince. Offering a self-depreciating smile, he said, "Forgive me. I was lost in thought."

The Nameless Guard moved closer. "Is everything alright?"

Expression turning wistful, the Prince said as if to himself, "I'm not sure."

"Sir?" The Prince's strange mood alarmed the Nameless Guard. Perhaps picking up on that, the Prince finally pulled himself away.

"Forgive me," he said again. "I was just thinking of my mother."

"Is she alright? Has her wound worsened?" The Nameless Guard's tone was sharp with alarm.

The Prince shook his head. "She is as she has been this last century; her injury continues to bleed but her power keeps it from growing. No, I was thinking of what she said to me before we departed the City. What she  _always_  says before we leave."

The Nameless Guard itched to ask what it was, but he knew it wasn't his business. What the Queen imparted was far above his need to know.

The Prince perceived his desire anyway. "She said that my heart holds a key, and I should mind it. I do not understand what she means. I have long felt that there is something more I should be doing during this Ritual—something that could end this eternal stalemate we find ourselves in. But I cannot see it. I do not know what it is she means, and every time we return, I wonder if I have disappointed her."

"The Queen loves you," the Nameless Guard said, disliking to see the Prince doubt himself like this. "You could not disappoint her."

The Prince's smile turned sad. "Perhaps. But I do not see what it is she does, and I fear that I have failed our people because of it."

"You undergo the Ritual every year," the Nameless Guard protested. "No one could ask more of you."

The Prince's expression softened as he looked at the Nameless Guard, but the sadness was still there. "Well, it is no matter now. We must not delay."

The Nameless Guard wanted to argue, but he knew it was not his place. He could only unlock the gate and follow the Prince outside.

The soldiers had arranged themselves in two long lines from the Sacred Pool to the Tunnel Hill. They faced towards the woods on either side, ready for any attack that should come. The mounted officers were similarly deployed. No one looked at the Prince. No one but the Nameless Guard would see what the true effect of the Ritual was.

The walk to the Tunnel Hill never felt as long as the walk back, but it was long enough that the Nameless Guard was again on alert for danger. Everyone knew it would be wiser to attack after the Prince emerged from Tunnel Hill, but that left room for complacency on the parts of the soldiers around them. The Nameless Guard knew how critical the Ritual was. If the Goblins could stop it—if they could kill the Prince—then the Queen and all Elvendom would be vulnerable again.

All of the soldiers were tense and watchful. The Nameless Guard stayed close to the Prince, ready to jump in front of him should anything happen.

For a year shy of a century, the Ritual had transpired unchallenged, and it looked like this year would add to that record. Still, the Nameless Guard was very glad when they entered the magical barrier surrounding Tunnel Hill.

They ascended a set of steps that led to a large door, the entrance to the tunnel. Only the Prince could open it, which he did with a wave of his hand. While the door looked ancient and heavy, it swung out without a sound. The passageway behind the door led into darkness. The Nameless Guard had no idea what was beyond that—what exactly it was the Prince did inside.

Usually, the Prince would nod to him and enter, but again he paused. There was a pronounced hesitation. When the Nameless Guard looked at him, he could see the obvious unease on his face.

He knew it! The Prince feared what was to come. So often, the Prince would say it was fine and downplay the effects of the Ritual, but it was clear that it did take a toll on him. He wasn't as okay with it as he tried to seem.

Anger welled up in the Nameless Guard. Anger and concern. Perhaps sensing that, the Prince turned to look at him.

His expression was regretful. Before the Nameless Guard could confront him, the Prince reached out and gently stroked the Nameless Guard's bare cheek.

He was shocked silent. The touch was feather-light, and it was all he could do not to lean into it. He looked into the Prince's eyes, searching for the meaning of this unexpected action.

The expression Prince had worn at the Sacred Pool's edge returned—a tender sadness that hurt to see. But the earlier hesitation dissolved. The Prince's fingers slid along his bare skin as they fell away, leaving his nerves tingling.

Turning, the Prince walked confidently into the tunnel, the door closing behind him.

For a moment, the Nameless Guard could do nothing. He wanted to linger in the moment, analyze it for meaning, imprint it into his memory.

But his life was not his own, and he had a job to do. Forcing his feet to move, he grabbed the mallet resting beside the door to hit a large drum on the edge of the platform. The soldiers below all shifted their stances in response, relaxing their posture if not their wariness.

There was nothing to do but wait for the Prince's return, which wouldn't be for an hour at least.

The Nameless Guard always hated this time, but never more so than now. He wanted to pace but he knew the sound of his boots would be heard by the soldiers, and they would wonder what was wrong. While the Guard and the Captain had attended every Ritual, that was not true of the soldiers. This might be the first Ritual for some of them. The last thing they needed was to have him worry them.

But he was a body of nervous energy. Combined with the usual worry of what was happening to the Prince was the new worry about the Prince's strange behavior. Something felt wrong.

Not for the first time, the Nameless Guard wondered if all this was necessary—if there wasn't some better alternative.

There wasn't. He knew that. If there was, the Queen would have done it in a heartbeat. She did not desire this for her son. The Nameless Guard remembered her expression when the Ritual was proposed. She had known better than any what it was that would be asked of her only son, and it broke her heart.

But the Prince had volunteered and would not be dissuaded. No other solution had been found, not in a century. Even if Elvendom was content with the state of affairs, the Nameless Guard was sure the Queen was not. Did she not see the effects of the Ritual every year? Was her own wound not still bleeding and painful?

This couldn't be sustained.  The Prince had called it an eternal stalemate, but the Nameless Guard could see the toll being paid. The magical barriers the Queen was holding were thin and weakening. Magic was growing stale, and very little new magic was being made. The City had been repaired from the ravages of the War but no new buildings had been grown. The population remained small.

The Queen did not have the strength to hold the City safe, not while her wound remained open. The Prince's power was beginning to wane too. The Nameless Guard could see it. The rejuvenating powers of the Ritual were fading.

But what else was there? Was the Prince really the only one who could undertake this wretched Ritual? The Nameless Guard ached to take his place. He'd already given up his Name. Did the Queen really think he wouldn't give even more? 

Folding his arms, the Nameless Guard sighed quietly. He  _had_  given up his Name, which meant magic was beyond him now. The whole point of giving up his Name was to protect him from any suggestive spell that could undermine his loyalty. The Prince had to be able to trust the Nameless Guard's reliability. If anyone could learn his Name, they could have power over him—power to strike at the Prince when he was vulnerable.

It was the same reason no one but the Queen knew the Prince's Name. Or the Queen's. Their Names had never been written or spoken, and never would be. It was unlikely anyone was strong enough to use their Names against them, but no one could afford to take that chance.

Which meant that the Nameless Guard might be incapable of performing the Ritual in the tunnel behind him, whatever it was. Stripping his Name was a soul-deep process. There was no undoing what had been done to him.

He had never regretted his decision, but he did wish there was some way he could continue to guard the Prince and relieve him of the burden of the Ritual at the same time.

It was a useless thing to think about now. Looking past the neat rows of soldiers, he gazed at the wall surrounding the Sacred Pool. The light from the pool was barely visible through the Veiled Gate. All the Magic Pools were going dark.

It reminded him of the War.

Disturbed, he tried to put all thoughts of the past out of his mind, but it was a futile effort. The wait for the Prince's return had never been longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Evening was falling when the tunnel door finally opened. Light spilling out from behind him earned the Nameless Guard's attention, and he turned to see the Prince struggling to open the door one-handed.

The Nameless Guard immediately moved to help, trying not to show how distressing it was to see the Prince. Gone was the hale warrior who had entered the tunnel. Now, the Prince was almost skeletal in appearance. His muscles were shrunken, his limbs frail and weak. His hair had lost its luster, and his soul was so faded that his tattoos barely glowed at all.

He almost looked Nameless himself. 

The thought disturbed the Nameless Guard. "My Prince?"

The Prince's faint smile was doubtless meant to be comforting but in his reduced state, it ended up looking a little ghoulish. "I'm fine. It was a success."

He gestured with his hands where the bud was still carefully cradled. It was in full bloom now, soft light radiating from its petals.

"Are you ready for what comes next?" the Nameless Guard asked, his expression concerned. The Prince never looked well after the tunnel but it did seem worse than ever this day.

The Prince nodded. "We shouldn't delay. I don't know how long I can hold the energies together."

Yes, the Prince used his own life energy somehow to generate the light. There wasn't a moment to lose.

Hurrying to the drum, the Nameless Guard pounded three loud beats to let everyone know the Prince had reappeared. Instantly, the soldiers below stiffened back into defensive position, their shields up and their spears pointed out.

The Prince took a few wobbly steps, balance shaky and strength clearly sapped. Hurrying to his side, the Nameless Guard offered his arm to help the Prince down the stairs. It concerned him how heavily the Prince seemed to be holding on.

A horse pulling a chariot awaited them just inside the barrier. Helping the Prince up into the chariot, the Nameless Guard noted the white-knuckled grip the Prince had to keep upright. His other hand was still carefully cradling the glowing bloom, leaving his balance precarious.

Stepping up beside him, the Nameless Guard took the reins. Bells on the horse's harness jingled as it pulled past the magical barrier and headed towards the Sacred Pool. The warriors around them knew of their progress by the sound of the bells, none of them turning to see the Prince.

The Nameless Guard was tense, anxious to be behind the safety of the Veiled Gate. He would have urged the horse faster but he could see how unsteady the Prince was beside him. Any faster and he might tumble out, lose the glowing bloom, and ruin the whole Ritual.

So, they continued on at a slow, steady pace. The horse knew the way well enough that the Nameless Guard felt confident in keeping his attention on the surrounding trees. Just as they passed the halfway point, something caught his eye.

There wasn't time to act. The projectile hit the horse hard on the side, sending it into an instant panic. It immediately reared and then bolted. The Nameless Guard and the Prince were thrown back by the sudden speed, tumbling onto the ground. The Prince curled protectively around the glowing bloom during the fall, and the Nameless Guard could do nothing to soften his landing.

Snapping to his feet, the Nameless Guard took in the sudden chaos on all sides. The projectile was followed immediately by a full-on assault on both sides. In the dark, it was hard to see who the attackers were but the noise of Goblins was unmistakable.

The Elven lines were holding but that might not remain the case. Knowing time was of the essence, the Nameless Guard acted swiftly. Scooping the Prince up in his arms, he raced towards the Sacred Pool.

Something hit him hard in the arm but he did not slow his pace, determined to get the Prince and the bloom to safety. The fight intensified around him as the Goblins grew desperate to stop them before they got to the Veiled Gate. The Elven lines wavered, leaving a gauntlet of dueling bodies to weave his way around.

The Sacred Pool was just in sight when the Nameless Guard felt something hit his back hard. It almost made him lose his stride and drop the Prince, but he just managed to keep his stumble from turning into a fall.

As it was, their passage through the Sacred Veil was messy and uncoordinated. The Nameless Guard managed to throw them to the side and out of the line of any more projectiles. He staggered to the Pool's edge, falling to his knees and letting the Prince down into the water.

The light of the glowing bloom was faint. The Prince himself looked worse than ever, eyes sunken in and dull. But he used what little strength he had to pull himself down into the water, not bothering to take off his robe as he usually would.

Soon he was beyond sight. The Nameless Guard lurched to his feet, grabbing the lever to shut the gate. A terrible roar echoed from the field beyond as the Goblins shouted their anger at missing their target.

But the Nameless Guard knew that they might still have victory. Glancing anxiously at the Pool, he wondered if there was enough power left in the bloom to renew the magics for another year. Or, if there was, if the Prince would survive completing the Ritual.

Angry, he considered going back outside the Veil to join the fight. He rejected the notion almost immediately. The Goblins were in retreat now, having no more objective to achieve. The Elven guard did not need the Nameless Guard's help, but the Prince might.

Pulling the slats down so that the gate was solid, he then wandered to the Pool's edge and waited.

As the second passed by and his adrenaline faded, the wounds he'd acquired made themselves known. He turned to see an arrow sticking out of his arm. He knew he shouldn't but the sight of it angered him enough that he simply grabbed it and yanked it out.

The pain that surged through him as it tore more flesh did not soothe the helpless feeling assailing him. He wished there was something more he could be doing in this moment.

It felt longer than any Ritual before, but it could be the close call that made it feel so. Even waiting so anxiously for it, he was taken aback when the lily at the center of the Sacred Pool suddenly lit up. Light seemed to melt off its petals into the water, turning it a glowing golden color. The light raced up the lines dangling along the edges of the pool and up the strings tangled in the tree branches. That light would race all the way to the City, illuminating the whole of Elvendom with magic.

The Nameless Guard paid it no mind, attention focused on the pool as he waited anxiously for some sign of his Prince. Time continued to pass slowly, and he felt the grains of sand slipping away as if they were the very matter of which he was made.

Abruptly, the Prince broke the golden surface of the pool with a huge gasp. It was agonizing to watch him struggle to swim to shore. If the Nameless Guard hadn't known that his presence in the pool might disrupt the energies, he would've dived in to help him.

As it was, as soon as the Prince was in range, he took his arm and pulled him up. Swiftly, he helped him out of the sodden robe and grabbed the Prince's discarded cloak to wrap him in.

"Easy, my Prince," he said, eyes scanning every inch of him to make sure he was alright. As usual, the swim in the Sacred Pool had returned a little of his energy so he no longer looked like the walking dead. But he was still a shadow of what he'd been this morning when they'd left for the Ritual.

It seemed to be too difficult for the Prince to even speak at first. He breathed heavily, and was visibly shaking with fatigue. The Nameless Guard wished he could reach out to offer support or rub the Prince's limbs to stimulate them.

That was not for him. All he could do was wait anxiously. Finally, the Prince looked up and offered a faint smile. "Another successful Ritual."

His glib words made the Nameless Guard's heart constrict. "Are you alright, Your Highness."

"Yes. Of course." He sounded distracted as he looked out at the Sacred Pool. His expression was wistful, and the Nameless Guard wondered if he compared the light from this year to last year's and the year before that. There was great magic here, yes, but it was a shadow of what had been a century ago. The magic was dimming, little by little.

If the Prince shared his thoughts, he did not speak of it. Instead, he gave himself a little shake and said, "I should check on the troops."

He tried to get to his feet, but he was so wobbly that the Nameless Guard immediately jumped to stop him. "The Goblins ran as soon we passed into the safety of the Veil. I'm sure the troops are being looked after."

"It is strange that they should attack now," the Prince said, forcing himself to stand but not pushing past the Nameless Guard. "I can only hope it means their situation is desperate."

"As desperate as our own?" the Nameless Guard said without thinking. Seeing the Prince staying put, he decided to check to make sure the troops really were okay.

Pushing on one slat, he peeked through the gate to see that the troops were once again in orderly lines except for a group of soldiers tightly crowded together between their fellows. The Nameless Guard was sure that anyone who had been hurt was being treated there, and their presence would only withdraw resources away from them.

"Everything looks under control. They-" The Nameless Guard cut himself off when he heard the sharp intake of breath from behind him.

He whirled around, finding the Prince's attention on him. "You've been hurt!"

Completely forgetting the wound, the Nameless Guard glanced down in surprise at his arm. But it wasn't his arm that had initially drawn the Prince's attention, and the throbbing pain in his back that he'd been ignoring came back to him.

"Why didn't you say?"

Before the Nameless Guard could answer, the Prince reached out to him. 

"Wait-" he tried to say but it was too late. As soon as the Prince's hand touched the skin where neck met shoulder, the Nameless Guard felt the surge of power flood through him. It felt so different from how it had been before he'd given up his Name. He could feel the resistance there. It shouldn't be possible to heal him, not without a Name.

But the Prince was of the Royal blood, second only to his mother in terms of absolute power. If any could overcome a Nameless soul, it was him.

It was not without a cost, though. When he withdrew, his skin was once again gray and gaunt. He looked about to pass out. The Nameless Guard had been rooted to the spot by the transfer of power, but now he jumped to help the Prince sit back down onto the bench.

"You shouldn't have done that," the Nameless Guard said. He took a second to investigate his arm, tearing the blood-soaked sleeve off to reveal his unmarked skin.

The Prince's own tattoos were so dim they were almost invisible. "It could have been poisoned." His words were faint as if it took the greatest effort on his part simply to speak.

The Nameless Guard looked at him for a moment, and then sank to his knees before the Prince.

For a century, he had stood helplessly at his Prince's side, forced to watch as he was drained away bit by bit. The Nameless Guard could watch the Prince's back but it felt like he wasn't doing anything of value. He couldn't protect him from the Ritual. He couldn't even touch the Prince to offer comfort.

"This can't continue," he whispered, head bowed.

A tentative hand settled on his head, and he closed his eyes, listening as the Prince's labored breathing finally evened out.

"There is no other way," the Prince said softly.

The Nameless Guard lifted his head. "There must be! Surely you must see the toll this takes on you. You won't be able to do this forever, and then what will happen to the kingdom?"

It wasn't a concern that actually bothered the Nameless Guard, but he knew it was an argument that might sway the Prince. It was greatly daring to speak so to him, but the Nameless Guard was reaching a breaking point. He couldn't  _not_  speak out.

The Prince did not take exception to the impropriety, but the Nameless Guard knew he wouldn't. He was always patient and kind. "I won't say that the Ritual is easy, but I will endure. I have faith my mother will heal eventually, but even if that were not so, I am sure I could continue as long as necessary."

"How can you say that? You can barely stand right now." It took all of the Nameless Guard's self-control not to yell.

"My weakness is temporary, but I am happy to bear it if it means I can spare my subjects the privations that would result without the Ritual."

Frustrated, the Nameless Guard could not keep the bitterness from his words. "Yes, the Nobles must have their baubles and useless tricks. They're not worth what you sacrifice."

"They're not the ones I think of," the Prince said patiently. He offered a tired smile. "I think of people like you."

"Like me?" The Nameless Guard frowned in confusion.

"Every time I look on you, I see how much our people have sacrificed for us. The villages on the outskirts took the brunt of the Goblin attacks, and I remember that when I think of your lost parents. When my mother went to war, she took the best of her soldiers. I had only a small guard to defend the City and the Royal magics. But it was the common people like you who truly saved our kingdom. You were there with me through every battle, fighting side by side, and even saving my life at the end. You gave up your Name! What is asked of me is so small in comparison."

"You don't owe me anything," the Nameless Guard said through clenched teeth. "You are not responsible for the death of my parents or the loss of my village. The Goblins are the ones to blame, and no one could ask more of you than you gave during the War. I gave my Name freely. I won't have you needlessly sacrificing yourself."

"Then who?" the Prince said, tone reasonable. "Who could I possibly ask to take my place."

"Me! I can perform the Ritual."

The Prince looked taken aback by the offer. "You're Nameless. You can't perform magic."

Gesturing with his chin towards his arm, the Nameless Guard said, "You healed my wound with magic. I'm sure there is a way. Let me take your place next year."

"No!" The Prince stood, looking disturbed now. "I cannot ask that of you."

"You're not asking. I'm offering."

"Why? You have already given up your Name, and now you offer to undergo another taxing magical Ritual—possibly  _dying_ —and for what? When would it be enough?"

"I would give up everything," the Nameless Guard said, his frustration growing at the Prince's refusal to hear him out.

"Why?"

"Because I love you!" He blurted it out without meaning to.

The Prince's eyes widened at the admission, and the Nameless Guard realized what he'd said. "You do?"

Chagrinned and angry with himself for ever admitting his feelings, the Nameless Guard said, "It's not important. What's important is changing the Ritual. You need to-"

"But . . ." The Prince's shock took a moment to wear off, but when he did, he smiled widely and said, "But this fixes everything!"

"It does?" Now it was the Nameless Guard's turn to be bewildered.

"Yes. I understand now! It all makes sense."

Before the Nameless Guard could ask what the Prince was going on about, the Prince reached out and pulled him into a kiss.

Nothing could be more shocking to him, and he reacted with instinct rather than intellect. He'd denied himself for so long that to have the Prince in his arms was more temptation than he could have ever refused.

The kiss was hard and desperate and amazing. There was something more to it. The Nameless Guard was tempted to liken it to the world tilting on its axis or stars igniting around him or whatever other trite dribble poetic types liked to use.

But when they finally parted, he realized that something had indeed happened. That half-remembered feeling of magic zipping along his nerves came back to him. He looked down and was astonished to see silver tattoos on the bare skin of his arm and hands.

Shocked again, he looked up at the Prince, who was once again the picture of health and strength. "What?"

The Prince was also looking at the tattoos, a look of wonder on his face. "You accepted?" He met his Guard's eyes, a tentative hope in his expression. "Really?"

The Guard was suddenly dizzy as all of this hit him at once. The Prince had kissed him. He had Name tattoos again. What was happening?

To further the surreal atmosphere, the Prince reached out and trailed an elegant finger along the lines of the new tattoos. "I have named you a thousand times in my heart but never thought to have the fortune to do so for real. I did not think you would ever accept me like that."

"My Prince, what is going on?" the Guard asked.

"Don't you see?" The Prince gestured towards the Sacred Pool. Reluctantly drawing his attention from the Prince, the Guard looked out and was stunned by what he saw.

The entire pool had transformed. The trees were taller all around them, shining as they had not done in a century. The Sacred Pool was now covered with giant lilies, all of them glowing so brightly they were hard to look at. The size of the pool had increased so much that the Guard could not see the far end.

It looked like one of the Royal pools, back to full health.

Startled, the Guard turned to the Prince for an explanation. Smiling, he said, "Have you never seen the power of True Love? This is your doing. You have fixed everything!"

"What do you mean? I haven't done anything," the Guard protested.

"But you have. I understand now what it was my mother was saying. The union of two souls who love each other deeply is the most powerful magic of all. Indeed, it is the only magic in the world strong enough to fix the curse lingering upon us from the War."

The Guard could only stare at the Prince, trying to accept what was implied. "You . . . You love me?"

The Prince's expression turned tender, and his touch was gentle as he reached out to touch the Guard's cheek. "Of course. I have loved you for a century now."

"Me?" The Guard realized that the Prince was tracing patterns on his face, and he tried not to hope the tattoos had returned there too.

The Prince drew nearer. "Yes, you. Who else could hold my heart?"

"But I am nobody, my Prince. I have done nothing worth your love."

Looking stricken at his words, the Prince said, "Please don't ever say that. You are everything to me." He studied the Guard for a moment. "You don't believe me."

The Guard was sorry to disappoint him but he had to speak truthfully. "No, sir. I can't imagine what you could see in me."

"Then let me tell you. During the War when we spent so many sleepless nights warding off attack after attack, I admired your courage, your steadfastness, and your skill. You took on the burdens of everyone else, often without any acknowledgement. And you saved me. Do you think I was unaffected when I saw you charge to my rescue, and hold our enemies at bay while we waited for reinforcements? And then you gave up your very Name! You have been by my side for a century now, and my admiration has deepened to an eternal love. Your thoughts are often my own, when you consent to share them. I enjoy every moment I have alone in your company. You are an island of comfort and security for me. I find I can speak openly with you as I can do with no one else. I have long wished to deepen our friendship, thinking anything more was beyond hoping for, but I thought it wrong to force that on you when you had already given so much of yourself."

Again, the Prince looked down at the tattoos covering the Guard's arm. "And now I see that my wildest hopes were not in vain. Do you know that this is everything to me? This is all I have wanted in so long. You are all I could ever want in a partner."

The Guard was left reeling by everything he was hearing. He wondered if he was even awake. "Surely, the Queen will object," he said, trying to hold onto anything that would keep him from believing this miracle. It just couldn't be true.

The Prince offered a smile. "The Queen is the last person to object. Don't you see? She saw it before anyone. She must have! Why else would she ask you to give up your Name? I have wondered at that for countless sleepless nights, for it seemed so cruel that I couldn't believe she would even consider it, let alone go through with the spell. I thought it was only the desperateness of the situation, but that wasn't it at all. She foresaw that we were meant to be, and that our union would heal the kingdom. Have no fear on her account. She will be very happy."

The Guard could not deny what the Prince said, but that left him with nothing else to hold onto. He could feel magic rising within him again, making him realize how empty he'd been. The Prince was looking at him with such a soft, hopeful expression. This couldn't be real but the Guard couldn't deny that it was.

Perhaps overhearing the thought, the Prince said, "You must accept this. Please."

The Guard sighed, reaching out to pull the Prince to him. "I have never been able to deny you, Your Highness. I do not see how I could start now."

Hearing the underlying truth in his words, the Prince smiled. It was a bright, happy smile, filled with a joy that the Guard had never seen before. It took his breath away that  _he_  had been the one to put that smile there.

Throwing away his doubts, the Guard boldly kissed the Prince as he'd wanted to do since he'd first seen him. The Prince kissed back enthusiastically, and the Guard no longer doubted that his love was returned.

 

***

 

_Wave upon wave of Shadow Warriors were unleashed upon the Realm even as the Queen and Necromancer did battle leagues away. So fierce was the assault that the very walls of the Queen's City were enflamed with battle._

_However, the Queen's wisdom was deeper than the Necromancer's wiles. While few in number, those remaining in the City were led by none other than the Queen's eldest son. The Crown Prince was the best of her warriors and the strongest of her mages, and it fell to him to hold the city and protect the Queen's magic in her stead._

_But he had also his future husband, the Archmage, at his side, who saved his life during the final siege. The Prince was wounded and pinned by a Goblin machine, his power spent after unleashing a powerful spell to protect the City walls. The Archmage rushed to his side, unable to free him but unwilling to leave. For hours, he defended the stricken Prince until the Queen returned to vanquish our foes._

_Wounded herself, it was a century before the effects of the War were finally overturned. But, by the True Love of the Prince and his Husband, the Queen's wound was mended and the magic healed and restored._

_Elvendom has known peace and prosperity since that time, and surely with the Queen, Crown Prince, and Archmage to guard us, we shall continue to do so forevermore._

-Excerpt from  _The Complete History of Elvendom_  by the Fourth High Scholar of Her Majesty's Academy


End file.
